


Iacon

by Kit_SummerIsle



Series: Challenge, Fight, Claim [2]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Violence, caste system, dub-con, prejudices
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2014-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:10:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kit_SummerIsle/pseuds/Kit_SummerIsle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iacon before the war, before the problems started that shattered the Golden Era and started the Great War. Some Shuttles living in the great city, their younglings growing up and learning to function in society that has sometimes harsh rules and hard realities that form their later selves...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lonely

**Author's Note:**

> Shuttle and Shuttling is like Seeker and Seekerling; because I wanted to express that young Skyfire is neither a grounder mechling, nor a Seekerling.

He hated being so clumsy. He hated that he was bigger than every other mechling in the class and he hated that they always kept together, closed their ranks to him, never allowing him into their games. Oaf and bumpkin, they called him when they wanted to insult; lubberly and at best awkward he was called when he had to move his bulk in barely wide enough spaces and inevitably, always bumped thick, wide wings into something or somemech. It didn’t hurt him – it hurt his pride. The school, prestigious as it was just wasn’t designed with shuttles in processor. 

And while no sane mech dared to tell those insulting names to his Creators who towered over even the tallest Iaconians and looked threatening even when they didn’t meant to; their creation, cursed with all the extra bulkiness of a growing shuttleformer was rarely spared from the ridicule of his peers. Skyfire left carefully the classroom after the others have all gone and started down on the main corridor for his next lesson. He loved studying, he really did. It was just the place that made him hate it.

He just remembered ducking at the end under the smaller doorway and he was glad for it – on the other side he saw the one mech in the school he was actually happy to see and wouldn’t want to look clumsy for if he could help it. Trailbreaker was both big for a grounder and nice enough never to torment the Shuttling and Skyfire was glad to have at least one friend among the grounder crowd.

“Skyfire! Imagine I’ll get my new alt later this orn!” – the black mech exulted and Skyfire smiled back.

Trailbreaker had some trouble with choosing a suitable alt form yet and was sometimes picked on because of it – not much, because he was big and definitely not clumsy and his forcefield was known to all students. Skyfire couldn’t quite imagine his problem though, as he never had any doubt of what he’d be from the moment he unfurled; moreover he knew no fliers who had any problems with their alts. Only grounders had these strange problems. 

They had many and most concerned the rare fliers too; but his Creators were adamant on not moving from Iacon, even if it meant hardly any friends for Skyfire to play with and virtually none to fly with. There were only a few other shuttles based nominally in Iacon, but they were all working on interstellar jobs and took their Shuttlings with them for vorns on end. It left Skyfire quite a bit lonely sometimes and glad that he could make at least one grounder friend. 

“That’s good to hear, Breaker. Do you have any new ideas what to try?

“Sire wants me to try a truck… but eugh… I don’t want to be a hauler.”

“It’s not that bad…” – Skyfire didn’t have the spark to tell him that shuttles were by definition haulers of cargo and his contempt hurt a tiny bit, as Trailbreaker didn’t seem to realize it yet. – “And you do have the mass and strength for one.”

“I know! But I still want something faster!”

Grounders were all queerly preoccupied with and enamored by speed. It was strange to Skyfire too, that most of the school were crowding the racetracks at any given free time, pitting their early alt-forms against each other and afterwards boasting of their meager speeds with loud voices. He could overtake them all including the teachers even as a youngling, but somehow air speed never counted the same in their optics. And he, as a shuttle was a far cry from the tetrajets who were the fastest things on the planet, albeit rarely seen in Iacon.

“I’m sure you’ll find something suitable this time. Come on Breaker, we’ll be late from the lab.”

That one was one lesson Skyfire never wanted to miss. He loved tinkering with experiments and even the desperately small lab-space and equipment couldn’t take away his enthusiasm. In fact it was there that he learned to control his movements the best, so as not to brush important experiments to the floor with a careless turn or sweep of a wing. His Carrier was proud of him inheriting his own penchant to sciences, while his Sire, a minor noble let him indulge grudgingly rather than encouraging him for his chosen carrier.

That brought a rare scowl to Skyfire’s usually calm, pleasant faceplates. If Starfield had his way, Skyfire would already be engaged to another youngling shuttle, and his only job would be to sit there in the main room and look nice for courting and social events. Skyfire couldn’t imagine anything more boring than a life like that, not even a solo vorn-long flight to the Vegan Galaxy could be more uneventful in his opinion. Which Starfield resolutely ignored, telling him that he was taking after his Carrier and a complete failure as a noble. 

Starfield hadn’t expected the same fight to come up with his creation than he had already won with his bondmate. Cloudscape has given up his own career after their bonding to be the noble bondpartner that Starfield wanted by his side. Consequently he had allowed Skyfire to attend schooling only until he could find a suitable bondmate for him. Skyfire had hoped that to never come about before he could start his own career as an adult. He still had some vorns though until that time and Starfield has recently upped his search effort considerably.

Skyfire banished his worries while quickly and deftly assembled the equipment he wanted to use this orn, not musing further on his Sire, and moved it carefully to an empty table. There he carefully and meticuously wrote down the details of his intended experiment and the expected results to a datapad. Submitting the pad to Synesthesia, the lab teacher he went back to his desk and set his experiment in motion. It would take several lab sessions, so he secured a place that could be barred from others using it in the meantime. 

“Fire! Psssht! Skyfire!”

Skyfire looked up and tried to get his bearings. During more complex experiments he often got lost so much that he forgot where he was or when the lab ended. But this time it was just Trailbreaker again, calling him from his own table.

“Yes?”

“Could you help me out a bit? I got stuck.”

“Sure.”

Trailbreaker stood by his own table, holding a field generator and a broad-spectrum scanner and looking like he’d throw both out of the window if they didn’t start cooperating. As usual, the black youngling wanted to experiment with his own force-field, always tinkering with enhancing and understanding it better. So far he’s always run into the usual problems – the force-field generator was fuel-expensive and difficult to manipulate.

“Here, see? You forgot to tighten this clamp and it moved. Let me help…”

He cleaned up the cluttered workbench as he helped to set the experiment right. Trailbreaker helped him as much as he could, but it was clear that the grounder youngling was no scientist material.

“Thanks Fire! I think I can follow it through now.”

When he turned back to his own table Skyfire froze. The lithe, red-white frame that cleared his table innocently revealed a broken mess behind him as he stepped away nonchalantly.

“Oops! I think I was a bit… clumsy.” – Silvercrest giggled at his own weak joke and left the ruined table and the shuttle behind, breezing away without another word. He winked to his crowd victoriously at the well-done harassment of the shuttle.

Skyfire tightened his denta. He was a calm mechling, not given to bouts of anger usually. But science was sacred and he’s had enough. Even though he’d felt his usual peacefulness trying to assert itself, he didn’t stop.

“Come back and clean it up!” – he barked on his louder, deeper vice and most of the younglings looked up, some of them quite shocked at the peaceful shuttle’s suddenly angry tone.

“Excuse me?” – Silvercrest turned back incredulously. He? Cleaning? At that bumbler’s order? No way!

“Yes, Silvercrest, I was talking to you!”

“You have no place to… _order_ me, shuttle!” – he hissed angrily, fashionable, decorative little winglets rising angrily by his shoulders.

But Skyfire had far bigger wings to intimidate him back and for his experiment he didn’t hesitate to use them. Spreading the white metal and towering over the smaller grounder he repeated his words forcefully.

“You will clean up what you have broken!”

“Students, calm down!” – of course Synesthesia interrupted them when the Shuttling started to look like he was winning over the higher ranking noble youngling. Skyfire understood how Cybertron worked, he studied sociology enough and wasn’t surprised. Disappointed, a little. But no big news there. Suddenly his anger dissipated and all that was left was sadness.

“It was an accident, Skyfire, calm down. You may repeat the experiment without a mark on your classwork.” – the teacher smoothly inserted his frame between the younglings – “Silvercrest you will be more attentive in the lab from now on and help Skyfire to set up his equipment again.”

“Awww, but I have my own work, Teacher!”

“I don’t need that twit to ruin it again!”

“That was quite enough, you two!” – Synesthesia snapped at them – “I made my decision and you will abide to it!”

Skyfire scowled again and turned back to his table after a terse nod to the lab teacher. He pointedly barred the way to Silvercrest, not particularly wanting to have the grounder around to wreak havoc. Not that the noble mechling made any effort to get closer to help him. Synesthesia, once he’d made his authority known and accepted, let them both sulk away. 

After the school and the disastrous lab session, Skyfire wasn’t even happy to fly home, even though being in the air usually calmed him and enhanced his mood, like it did to all flier frames. The sky was unsurprisingly clear, free of any other fliers, of which only a few lived in the white city, the unofficial capital of the planet. Sometimes Skyfire wished for more contrails in the blue skies, more traffic there and more opportunities for friends. He sometimes wondered what Vos must be like with those millions of flier frames.

“Skyfire.” – his Sire’s deep voice greeted him at the balcony of their high-rise apartment when he landed and it was quite unusual. – “I trust your day was satisfactory?”

“Not, really, no…” – he mumbled, not missing Starfield’s impatient scowl. He always forgot that for his noble Sire it was a polite, but rhetorical question only, not a real enquiry about his actual day or mood.

“Nevertheless, I have good news for you. Please come to the sitting room.”

Always formal, always caring more about appearances than his creation’s actual mood or opinion… Skyfire hated this part of their family life. Cloudscape was all right usually, but Starfield insisted on mimicking the high nobles, the Towers mechs, among whom he could never belong, but always wanted to. He couldn’t really, as he had not a single processor in him that could harm any other mech - but he sure tried.

They arrived at the spacious and richly decorated sitting room and Skyfire greeted his Carrier properly and warmly, before he sat facing them on an appropriately sized settee. At their formal, ceremonial airand sombre looks, something heavy started to form in the pit of his fuel tank, a premonition of sorts, whispering him that he would not like what was to come.

“I have excellent news for you, Skyfire. After much searching and researching the candidates, I have found a suitable bondpartner for you!”

He knew it. Somehow, he knew it was going to be this. Skyfire shifted uncomfortably on the seat, dread growing in him fast. But he still hoped…

“B-but you promised me Sire, that I can finish the school first!” – his voice was as close to whining as it could get with his deep timbre.

“I did… but it is an excellent opportunity that you must not miss! I will allow you to finish this term but no more playing with low-brow things! It is high time you started acting like your rank and learn refined manners.”

 _Refined manners, my aft_ – Skyfire hardly ever said or even thought curse-words but right now he very much felt like it – like he could ever be _refined_ with his bulk and awkwardness in these small places grounders insisted on… besides he found inane small talk being inane small talk and not _refined_ conversation… and those were still the smallest of his problems right now.

“Who is he, if I may ask…?”

“A noble mechling from Tarn…”

“… a grounder???”

“Of course not.” – Starfield scoffed, offended by the supposition – “He is a shuttle of course.”

“Ohh. Right.”

“It is exceedingly impolite to interrupt your Sire, Skyfire.”

“Sorry…” – Skyfire felt miserable huddling on the small sofa, facing with his creators like they were… _an enemy?_ It was uncomfortable on a number of different levels than mere physical. Suddenly all his calmness and pacifism seemed to fly out of the window as he contemplated his future.

“His designation is a good, strong one for one of us.” – Starfield paused for effect before continuing pompously – “Blast Off.”

 _Well, drat._ Skyfire nodded meekly and obediently, even tried to muster a smile for his Carrier…but inwardly he was already planning how to delay the bonding until he finished school. He didn’t dare to think farther ahead. This Blast Off character might even turn out to be… acceptable. He hoped. But from Tarn? Weren’t there something different with those shuttles, something he heard with half an audial a few vorns back?


	2. Meet your future

“Stop squirming, Fire.”

“But it tickles…” – Skyfire shifted again, making his Carrier whack him gently on the helm. He has never been waxed before and he was sure that he didn’t like it. Besides tickling it just required far too much time while he could do nothing, just stand unmoving. It was a waste of time in the Shuttling’s opinion.

“Stop making up excuses too.”

“Why do I have to…?”

“Skyfire! Stand still or you will be all streaky when you meet our guests!”

“Don’t wanna…”

“Why are you so against meeting another Shuttling, Fire? You’ve complained a few times that you never have anyone to fly with and how lonely it is for you among the groundlings in the school.”

“Fly with is not engaged, Carrier!” – Skyfire made sure to show his distaste at the idea – “I’d be much happier if he came just to play with… maybe then I wouldn’t have to be waxed either.”

“You two will be able to go flying too.” – Cloudscape didn’t answer to Skyfire’s complaint, even though he could understand his creation quite well. But Starfield was so set on this union, and he’d promised to help his mate... – “But you have to look your best for the first time you meet.”

Between his own bright colours and Starfield’s nearly solid blue-black, Skyfire turned out to have almost completely white, like the unfurling sparkling couldn’t decide on any colours and went with the lack of them. Only some time later he grew a red stripe onto the wings, mainly because he got fed up by the less than subtle hints to his designation; but nothing else, much to the disappointment of his Sire. White apparently wasn’t a prestigious enough colour for him. True enough, most Shuttles tended towards having darker plating and in that Skyfire was an exception – but then his interest in sciences was unusual too. 

Shuttles, while escaping the extreme prejudice most grounders viewed the indubitably warframe Seekers, were still considered less intelligent than most. After all, hauling cargo was a low-brow job for grounders or fliers as well and not generally associated with academic success. That many of the Shuttles were explorers was not known generally or outright ignored – grounders have always preferred their preconceived ideas as opposed to facts.

Skyfire pouted a bit but smoothed his expression before Cloudscape could see and scold him for it. There was just no use to protest when both his Creators were so determined… he’d have to make the most of this visit and set aside his misgivings and worries. It was just… too fast, too soon the announcement that he was to be engaged to a complete stranger. He’d hoped that his Sire would at least give him some time to get accustomed to the idea…

All too soon his plating was shiny in a way Skyfire was sure that he was uncomfortable with. He wasn’t a fragging mirror, for Primus’s sake! And to make it worse he was forbidden to do anything until their guests arrived, so his finish wasn’t marred by dirt or spilled liquid… the soon morose Shuttling sat in the family’s sitting room with an allowed datapad and tried to concentrate on a description of the Z-203FA Galaxy that was the latest exploratory fad and highly interesting – if only he could pay attention to it and not prick his audials towards the anticipated noise heralding the visitors.

It was all too soon – but it felt like a millennia as well for his overworked processor – before they heard the low roar of approaching engines and his Creators stood to greet the guests on their landing balcony. The whole building had to be reinforced when they moved in megavorns ago, as there was simply no suitable building in Iacon to take the weight of several shuttleformers at once. But now here they were and Skyfire stood up from his seat, only slightly scuffling his pedes in nervous waiting to see his future betrothed.

Then he heard the engines cut out and his nerves twanged as the words of polite greetings floated inside. The huge frames moved in and Skyfire spotted the smaller one among them, groaning slightly inwardly. They were all dark and the one who must be Blast Off was almost drab in his opinion. Seriously… brown? Was there a more boring, _organic_ colour in the whole planet? And why wouldn’t _he_ have to wax and polish himself anyway?

Then he took in the surprised looks at his own lightness and Skyfire had to suppress a blush. He hated to be watched, stared at and observed like he was a piece of equipment… His shiny, mirror-bright wings pricked up slightly, nervously and defensively and he was dismayed to see the answering aggressive-dominating flare of those brown wings. Slag. So he was like that…

“Greetings.” – he nearly stammered.

The brown-black Shuttling didn’t look impressed and Skyfire felt even worse than before. He wanted to be anywhere else but there. Preferably in the lab, but anywhere sounded just right. 

“Hello.”

The smooth tenor was a pleasant surprise to Skyfire. The pleasant timbre made even his tense expression a bit more likeable and at the unsure glance of his red optics Skyfire suddenly realized that he too must be worried about the sudden turn of events. It made them almost like… collaborators against their Creators’ machinations.

“My designation is Blast Off.”

“Umm… nice to meet you Blast Off…”

They stood awkwardly in the middle of the room while the elder Shuttles conversed lightly and politely among each other, obviously giving them time to get acquainted. Skyfire threw a frantic look around, trying to find a topic he could fill the embarrassing silence with, as it seemed that the brown Shuttling wasn’t going to help him in it.

“I… uhhh… would you like an energon treat?”

“No, thanks.”

“Maybe some energon?”

“I’ve refueled enough, thank you.”

Slag. Skyfire was at his wits’ end as to what to do and cast a helpless glance at his Creators. He was surprised when the Shuttling’s smooth tenor spoke up suddenly, lifting the datapad he had thrown down on a table when the visitors arrived.

“I saw this journal too a few orns ago. It is a fascinating description, don’t you think?”

“Umm… yeah… I enjoyed it.” –much as he was able to process the information in his frantic worry – “It is a Galaxy I’d love to visit one orn. Those interstellar clouds…”

“Yeah, they appear to pose superb navigational challenges. I’d not be against going there either.”

“Too bad that by the time we grow up, it’ll be charted down to the last quasar…”

“We’ll have to discover new Galaxies then.”

“Good idea…”

Skyfire laughed and was surprised how effortlessly it came out. Maybe he wasn’t so bad. Anyone who was interested in exploration was an improvement over being a boring noble brat that he’d have to bond with and do nothing afterwards.

“Though, you might not get to be waxed in space…” – Blast Off smirked and Skyfire’s light plating flamed in mortification.

“It wasn’t my idea!” – he yelped, hunching a bit and pulling his wings down. It didn’t help them to throw a light-show around like a fragging night-club mirror but showed how uncomfortable he was with it. – “Carrier insisted…”

“It is nice, I suppose. You have unusual colour, Skyfire. From your designation I thought you would be mostly red.”

“I like white. It’s… clean. Pure.” 

“It stands out… not that it is bad, not always.”

“Yours is unusual too.”

“I choose it because Sire once told me jokingly just not to pick brown. Before, I went with black and purple, but neither was quite… fitting.”

“You… you defied your Sire?” – Skyfire’s optics widened and he sat automatically in shock.

“Why not?” – came the gruff, but flippant answer, but Blast Off followed him to the couch – “Don’t tell me you obey your Creators in everything…”

“I… why not?” – Skyfire couldn’t imagine disobeying his Sire. He was the adult, he knew better and… he was Creator.

“Well, they often want things I don’t. Like this bonding.” – the brown Shuttling shrugged, casting a halfway apologetic glance at Skyfire – “It’s not that you are disagreeable or whatnot. But I will bond when _I_ want it, not my Creators. I told them that I’d see what you were like and then we can decide.”

Once Skyfire got over the shock of him speaking out so candidly he found that he liked the attitude. At least inasmuch it concerned himself and the bond he was not ready for. With cautiously rising wings he answered.

“I wanted to finish school before any bonding… but my Sire insisted. He doesn’t like me unbonded and playing with sciences.”

Blast Off laughed softly, casting him a conspiratory glance.

“Then we agree on not wanting to hurry it up, right?”

“Right.”

Skyfire even smiled back at him. The Shuttling wasn’t bad at all, despite of his worries and more than willing to cooperate with delaying the bonding for as long as they wanted to. Looking up he saw his Sire beaming down at them and behind him Blast Off’s slightly more reserved Creators. Great, he thought, now Starfield has completely misread their behaviour.

“Look how comfortable they are with each other!” – his Sire gushed to the visitors – “I told you it was a good match!”

“We’ll see. It’s not for us to decide right now.”

Starfield scowled lightly for a klik, obviously unsatisfied not to have a definite answer immediately, but covered it up fast, through long ease of practice.

“Why don’t you two go flying together? Skyfire here misses the company of others, you know?”

“Yes, you’ve mentioned it. They may fly of course.”

“I hope you’ve filed sufficient flight plans for your family? In Iacon it is compulsory for all fliers.”

“No, I have not.”

“What?”

“I’ll file flight plans when I see all grounders required to file drive plans.” – Blast Off’s Sire wore a sneering, angry expression – “In Tarn the Council is not afraid of fliers of any kind nor does it want to keep tabs on us.”

“B-but… you must do it here…”

“I want to see the ones forcing the issue…” – the growl was outright frightening and Skyfire pulled himself into as small a huddle as he could. 

“I… I hope the authorities won’t notice…”

“Come on, Skyfire. Let them solve it while we can fly yet.” 

Blast Off stood and moved towards the balcony, towing the half-dazed Skyfire with him. The white Shuttling wasn’t sure if he should go now or stay… but he wasn’t given much choice. But Blast Off was determined and soon they were soaring far above the glittering city. Skyfire couldn’t quite manage to forget the problems but he had to admit that it was nice to have a flying partner at last – and a polite, if sometimes a bit pushy one at that. 

They did race a bit too, Skyfire subtly steering them towards the outskirts of the city, so they wouldn’t disturb the grounders with their loud, rumbling engine-noise. Blast Off was faster slightly but he lacked any kind of finesse and every maneuver Skyfire made threw him off course – and every blunder made him growl and push harder until Skyfire unobtrusively drew farther from him. His growls sounded so serious…

“Where did you learn to fly like that?” - he swung around angrily as Skyfire made a sudden roll, shaking him off – “Don’t tell me there are Seekers in Iacon?”

“No, there aren’t any… I learned to fly mainly on my own.” – a quick drop and a half-turn and he was behind the brown Shuttling like a chasing tetrajet – “But it’s true, the only training vids I had were Seeker ones.”

“It shows… I might ask to borrow them if you don’t mind.” – the voice was gruff, but conceding his shortcomings. Shuttles were rarely if ever taught to fly in fancy ways like Seekers, their shape, mass and the cargo they carried made it unwise to do much else but fly in straight lines and only make cautious, slow turns. But Skyfire, with no other Shuttling to learn from, had no compunctions about learning to maneuver.

“Sure. I’ll be glad to lend them… and practice sometimes if you are willing…”

“I… might like that too.”

It was a start.


	3. Visiting

Skyfire input the last of his meticulous answers to the datapad, checked all the answers once more and signaled to the teacher that he was ready. He wasn’t the first, but still on the faster side, he noted with satisfaction looking around in the quiet and tension-filled classroom, as Synesthesia came to collect his exam datapad. He was then allowed to leave and free for the next few groons, the only duty he had would be to collect his exam results once the school released them. 

The school holiday was even more exciting than usual, as now he actually had something to look forward to, something beside his Sire’s parties, something he’d actually enjoy. Following the visit from the Tarnian shuttles, as the engagement wasn’t yet signed, now they were going to visit them in Tarn. For Skyfire, who hasn’t been allowed to fly as far as neighbouring cities yet it was a dream coming true. Especially, as Blast Off, despite of the white Shuttling’s earlier misgivings turned out to be tolerable, likeable even. 

He wasn’t worried about his school results. Skyfire wasn’t boastful, but he knew his worth – and it firmly put him to the top third of the students in terms of general result and to the very top in scientific subjects. He successfully represented the school on several competitions already, and he had a very firm hope of getting into the Science Academy once he finished here… provided his plans weren’t overwritten by his Sire’s arrangements. 

But lately it looked like Starfield has grudgingly acquiesced, since Blast Off’s Creators didn’t want to sign the engagement without their son’s agreement. Unless Skyfire’s Sire found him another Shuttling willing to bond and high-ranking enough, he was safe until the end of the Academy. Considering the small size of the shuttleformer community on Cybertron, Skyfire was almost sure that he couldn’t.

So he was in a very good mood as he flew back to their apartment. While he loved studying, a break from the school and a visit to another city was something he was very much looking forward to. Even to meet with Blast Off again… the brown Shuttling proved to be much better than his initial fears painted him to be and once the threat of immediate bonding moved away like a stormcloud dispersing, he was perfectly willing to befriend with him.

And in Tarn, they could even fly wherever they wanted, without first clearing with authorities; the city was also mainly populated with grounders, like Iacon, but it had a sizable heliformer community too, not to mention that Seekers also worked or visited there sometimes. All in all, the aerial traffic was proving to be livelier than in Iacon and that would be more enjoyable too. Skyfire, never one to enjoy being in the center of attention, always felt conscious of the stares when he flew over Iacon’s white buildings in the empty skies. 

In a few orns they were finally off and on their way. Starfield and Cloudscape flew in the orderly, calm manner befitting to noble Shuttles, but Skyfire couldn’t contain his excitement and flitted around like a mechainsect as his Sire occasionally told him. But he was just too happy to see different places and though he had learned Cybertron’s planetography, flying over places and identifying them was still almost like exploration… and more fun he had for quite some time. 

The Tarnian Heights were simply awesome for a mechling growing up on the boring Iaconian plains and their engines that could lift them up to space hardly even strained while they passed them. Underneath, the multicoloured, rusty metallic spires reached up like so many thin, spindly digits trying to grab them. Or so Skyfire’s overeager, excited imagination perceived the unusual, but still natural growths.

As they passed and he looked back, his scientific curiosity kicked in and he wondered how such formations could come to be. Reminding himself to look it up later, he turned his attention to the city that rose ahead of them. Tarn was… at first sight a bit of a disappointment after Iacon. Instead of the white brilliance and imposing architecture he was used to, it was drab and uninteresting. The oil lake in the middle of the city and the crystal park around it was the only thing drawing the eager Shuttling’s attention, while he instinctly avoided looking at the huge, sprawling Prison Quarter with its dark, foreboding look of a fortress. 

The three Shuttles flew closer together as they neared the city proper and the aerial traffic grew. Mostly helicopters and vtols of every description, but a fast jet or two were also flashing by, making Starfield grumble and complain loudly about rude, obnoxious Seekers. Skyfire smothered a smile. His Sire basically hated Seekers, no matter what they did. The Vosians considered themselves superior to Shuttles purely because they valued flying agility above everything, which his Sire, a minor noble himself from Iacon, could never forgive them. Skyfire has so far kept to himself that he envied them for their agility and tried to emulate it as much as he could.

A group of Shuttles that awaited them caused a bit of an attention even in a city like Tarn. Apparently the whole clan came out to greet them and Skyfire groaned inwardly. Even if they were all easygoing and foregoing required etiquette, it was bound to take joors of greetings, introductions, exchanging news and gossip, ceremonial refueling and whatever else they decided to bring into it. He forced a smile onto his lipplates as they landed and transformed, feeling Starfield’s warning glance on him and tried to spot Blast Off among the dark shapes. 

It was two full, gruelling joors later when a sympathetic, elder Shuttle, whose designation Skyfire just couldn’t remember, noticed their bored grimaces and told the two younglings to go and play – but he felt forever indebted to the blue and black mech for it. They escaped to Blast Off’s room, where they sighed in tandem once the door closed behind them and smirked at each other for the sound.

“That bad, ehh?”

“I never understand what adults like in such parties!”

Blast Off threw himself into a recliner and waved to him to choose any spot he wished to. 

“Mine are really bad like that.” – he confided in the white Shuttling – “They look all aloof and morose but show them a party and they can chatter and smile politely for joors and not get bored.”

“My Sire is like that too.” Skyfire giggled, while nibbling on a treat – “Carrier not so much, but goes along for him.”

“You don’t seem the chattering type either.” – the glance the brown mechling cast at him was strange… almost like measuring him up and Skyfire trembled slightly under the weight of it.

“N-no, I… prefer my studies to parties.”

“Good. Me too.”

“What is it you study?”

“Social sciences. With a special focus on politics.”

“Do you want to be a politician?” – that was definitely a strange career choice for a shuttleformer.

“Not sure about it, not yet. But it is a possibility. What about you?”

“I haven’t decided which area of sciences to pursue… they are all so fascinating!”

“That’s true… the main reason why I haven’t decided on politics.”

The two Shuttling laughed, comparing their school experiences and trading stories about their mostly grounder schoolmates. They both felt comfortable now, away from the polite conversation of their Creators, engaging in what interested them both.

“You don’t have a single flier in your school? That must be… lonely.”

“Not only that… Iaconians are so small, there are parts of the school I barely fit. Small grounders everywhere…” – Skyfire wasn’t usually a complaining type but this time he indulged himself.

“Must be Pit. I have a few helis in my class and they are all right. Maybe we can go out and fly a bit and I can introduce you to them.”

“I’d like that. I never met a heliformer before.”

“Whirl is all right and Vortex is, well, usually okay too. He is strange sometimes.”

“How so?”

“Ehh… best if you see him. A game of tag is a… let’s say thrilling experience with them. Interested?”

Blast Off was smiling, but his optics flashed with a slight, hard glint that made Skyfire a bit uneasy. He would be all for meeting new mechlings, especially fliers and an aerial game of tag would be a novel experience – but something in the way Blast Off described his friends made him a bit worried. But then, he reasoned in his processor, they wouldn’t do anything extreme or dangerous, right? So he nodded to the invitation and they left the apartment for the promised meeting and game.

Half an orn later the whole household and both his Creators were fussing over the cuts on the white plating and offering every sort of advice how to treat them until the medic arrived. Skyfire hissed as the wounds stung when he moved and wanted to shout at every mech to leave him alone and in quiet… but he held back his frustration when he heard Blast Off’s distinctive tone speaking up angrily among the milling, winged frames.

“It was just an accident! Why would Vortex want to harm him? He is not flying like a Shuttle should, Vortex couldn’t have expected those maneuvers!”

“Accidents are quite frequent around Vortex…” – another Shuttle, a light green and red coloured one added with a frown – “You shouldn’t hang out with him so much. That heli is trouble, I tell you.”

“Yes, he was suspended from school thrice now for suspicious accidents.”

“Nothing was proven about them though.” – Blast Off was adamant – “And he is not responsible for simple accidents.”

“I did roll rather suddenly.” – Skyfire added to the conversation – “and he was nice before and looked contrite after it happened.”

“’Fire, he cut your whole side up with those nasty blades of his!” – His Sire was more upset than ever – “You don’t have to defend him. Any flier should be aware of others in the air!”

“They are just younglings still. Accidents are bound to happen in a game of tag when different fliers play it.” – A pitch black Shuttle opined in a deep voice – “I say they were fortunate that no Seeker was present to complicate matters. Those jets are too fast in my opinion.”

Skyfire tuned out the rest of the arguments when the medic arrived and after checking his injuries, turned off the sensors in the area and started to weld the shallow gashes shut. He felt tired and wrung out, physically and mentally too, and despite of the insistence of Blast Off’s family, he wasn’t sure that it was all an accident. True, it looked like one, and he really had no reason to suspect otherwise… but he still did.


	4. Space

Skyfire hummed quietly, the song from the decaorn’s latest hit lodging itself into his processor, like a rust-stain – and only a bit more pleasant than one – while he industriously worked in the lab space he was assigned. He enjoyed getting back to school for the extra course in advanced sciences, even proud that he was chosen and invited for it. It meant that he could do what he loved, among those who shared his enthusiasm for the subject while avoiding the less than pleasant experiences and students of the school. Not to mention how much the extra marks would help him to get to the Science Academy after the school vorn ended. 

So he tinkered there happily, the storm-clouds of the impending bonding finally cleared away since his Sire accepted that Blast Off’s creators were perfectly satisfied with waiting for them to finish whatever schooling they wanted before committing their younglings to their bonding. The accident with Vortex and Blast Off’s strangely vehement defense of the heliformer also contributed to his decision to wait some more time. So Skyfire was happy to come back to Iacon and study some more, settling, after much hesitation on chemistry as his main subject, keeping astrophysics as second. 

He was also satisfied with Blast Off visiting every groon or so and keeping up with the easy friendship between them, filled with enjoyable talks about their respective studies and many far-fetched dreams of exploring the vastness of the universe together one orn. Blast Off was even more knowledgeable about far-away galaxies and space-phenomena than Skyfire’s Carrier and he happily soaked up the information from the darker Shuttling. Skyfire was quite satisfied how his Sire’s bonding plans backfired on him, leaving him with a friend who lazily courted him with no pressure at all to bond any time soon.

Blast Off was already enrolled in the Tarnian Galactic Academy, dropping his earlier choice of politics for astrogation. He was determined to get into the Exploration Corps after the school and Skyfire was secretly thrilled by it, hoping that in time they could fly together to far-away Galaxies, discover strange places and learn about new planets. They often talked about it, warming to each other more and more as time went by. The brown Shuttling was even content to await for Skyfire who’d start his Academy years a vorn later than he did and would consequently finish it later as well. 

Until that time they continued to meet and as they both neared to their final frames, they were allowed to fly alone, leaving the airspace of Iacon and Tarn even. Noting the time, Skyfire meticulously finished up in the lab, carefully securing the ongoing experiment and saving his notes before leaving. He was excited but a tiny bit nervous and apprehensive. This was the orn they were first allowed to leave the gravity well and fly to Cybertron’s moon, exercising their shuttle engines for real for the first time. 

“Are you ready?”

Skyfire lifted his helm at the unexpected voice. Blast Off was hovering outside the lab window, his deeply growling engines shaking the building walls slightly, earning him a disapproving glance from the supervisor of the lab. He smiled in his slightly predatory way and the white Shuttling smiled back eagerly as his digits stilled in their work.

“Just a klik… and I am. I’ll join you right away.”

Skyfire was rule-abiding enough not to leave by the window as virtually any other flier would have done. He calmly walked to the door, slightly faster went down on the long corridor and stepped outside via the main entrance. The longer way out of the building also served to calm the nervous fluttering in his tanks, caused partly by the other Shuttling’s presence, partly by their first true offworld flight.

“Have you fuelled up fully?”

“Yes, of course.” – Skyfire topped up his tanks so completely he felt them ready to burst. It was psychological only of course but he wanted to take no risk of running out of fuel partway up.

“Let’s go then!” 

Blast Off’s deeper voice betrayed a rare excitement and Skyfire trembled inwardly by it. He, too was eager to _taste space_ for the first time, even as his logical processor flickered a bit at the totally unscientific description. Standing beside the brown Shuttling, he glanced upwards, into the bright white sky. It was the middle of the dry season, no acid rains forecasted, no dark pewter-grey clouds looming overhead and no strong winds tearing the taller crystal-trees. Perfect weather for the first off-world flight for two eager Shuttlings.

They moved to the district’s smallish airfield and took off formally, transforming and keeping the prescribed distance to each other, Blast Off just an inch or so ahead. Skyfire let him like always, his nature not urging him to rise to the small, easily ignorable challenges he kept putting out subconsciously. As far as he was concerned, the other shuttle could take the initiative, lead them, make the decisions and so on – until he had no objection, Skyfire wasn’t about to argue or try to be the dominant one. 

They rose steadily, for once not playing nor complicating their path with unnecessary flair, both of them focusing the task of preparing for their engines’ full output. They both had been to space before, but only taken up in their Creators’ hold, hardlined to them and learning how it was done. Now was the first time they ran the checklists alone and they were both a bit nervous about it.

“Nice weather.”

Skyfire lifted an unseen brow-ridge at the rarely heard small talk from his friend. If he guessed right, it was to hide a sign of nerves Blast Off wouldn’t show otherwise. He answered nonchalantly.

“Perfect for our flight.”

The brown-black Shuttling waggled his wings, sliding a bit to the side and compensating suddenly, nearly overdoing it.

“S-sure. Can’t wait to be outside the atmosphere.”

Cybertron’s thin atmosphere was barely one fifth in size and density of most wet-organic planets and less even than other metallic ones but it still interfered with the shuttle-engines that were designed for optimal interstellar propulsion and only worked near the planets with several mods that curbed their output and had to be disengaged once they weren’t needed.

“It is a bother sometimes…” – Skyfire carefully followed what his sensors conveyed as they rose upward, the timbre of their engines deepening slightly all the time – “… and we are coming up the shutoff point… now.”

In tandem, they shut down the safeties, disengaged the mods, and increased the fuel flow to their turbines. In the thin, barely there remains of the atmosphere, two sets of deep growls shook the remaining air molecules, twin flames marked the ignition and two sets of interstellar shuttle engines propelled forward the white and brown frames ever higher and faster in the darkening sky. 

Outer plating hardened in the sudden cold, protective covers slid over sensitive spots and space sensors came alive and started to feed an entirely different set of data to the Shuttlings’ processors. There were no wind or turbulences, no altitude measurements and no aerial traffic up here – instead they observed and noted cosmic radiation, light rays and radio-waves, astrogation kicking in to feed them relative position and path, projected forward to steer clear of any celestial bodies. 

They silenced, their processors fully engaged with the new tasks that would take time, vorns and vorns of experience before it got routine and could be relegated into the background. For now it was all they could do to keep up with the necessary computations and keep a more or less straight path towards Charon, the smaller moon, their target. Although Blast Off had boasted beforehand of his prowess and belittled the short flight to their goal as nothing, Skyfire felt that he was just as busy and nearly overwhelmed as himself with the innumerable tasks they had to do.

But busy as he was, with a small part of his processor he couldn’t help but marvel about the space around them. It was, as the near-Cybertron space should be, empty of anything but a few carefully marked and easily avoidable satellites. But empty, as it was, Skyfire still felt it busy in a way atmosphere never felt like. The abundance of radiation, from the visible spectrum into the radio-waves and up to the harder, cosmic rays made it feel like he was in a disco or a queer artistic show. He had known logically that the atmosphere dampened and swallowed up most kinds of the radiation, but even knowing it, it was a huge surprise to experience. 

It threatened to overwhelm his sensors and processors and the white shuttle was, for a klik, afraid if he could ever get used to it the way he should. But he gamely absorbed it all, letting his programming decide what was important and ignore the rest for now. The two Shuttlings rose slowly, their internal struggles with the new tasks showing in occasional wavering of their paths, a shudder or two in their engines and once even an embarrassing groan in the comm from one of them.

“It is harder than… I’d thought!” – Skyfire broke the silence at last, his voice strained and tense but happy.

“A bit… yeah. But I can handle it.” – Blast Off as expected didn’t want to reveal any difficulties or weaknesses but his stressed tone told Skyfire that he too was hard pressed with the task.

“We are halfway already. The rest should be easier.”

The answering, half-suppressed snarl told Skyfire that trying to converse right now might not be the best idea with his companion struggling but not wanting to reveal it. He was slowly getting a handle on the arduous task of computing and able to divert a little attention to other than the necessary data for their flight-path, so he immersed himself in the new and fascinating sensory data of space, enjoying it immensely already, despite the difficulties.

_Tasting space_ , the formerly queer and illogical expression suddenly made sense to him. The radiation and waves were translating in his sensors as something akin to tasting, like a sharp and tangy energon goodie, or the bite and buzz of a so-far forbidden high grade. Only he tasted it with his whole frame, not only with the oral sensors and Skyfire suddenly wanted to chuckle at the ridiculous vision that formed in his processor – that of flying in an immense cube of high-grade and tasting it with all his sensors at once. It was of course ridiculous and illogical, but Skyfire was light-headed enough to indulge in the humor of the situation, without showing or telling it to his partner. 

In less than a joor they were within comm distance to the moon and even Blast Off sounded a bit less stressed in the comm. They scanned the surface like it was a new, unexplored and wild planet instead of a well-developed, well-charted place of leisure and relaxation for ll Cybertronians. But they indulged in a little fantasy of being explorers, enjoying the experience now, as it got to be easier.

“I have the landing pad on visual. I’m preparing to touch down.”

“Me too. Keep the safe distance.”

Landing from a space-flight, even in the smaller gravity and nonexistent atmosphere of the moon was still dangerous. The two Shuttlings bled speed and altitude unevenly, carefully judging the distance where they could transform and settle down with their uncurbed, full-powered engines for the first time. Neither of them managed it without stumbling a few steps on the smooth metal surface of the landing pad and both of them was a bit embarrassed about it. 

But the awaiting small group greeted them with enthusiasm none the less, both Shuttlings fast smothered in the larger frames of their Creators and assorted relatives as son as they landed; unable to say anything in the cacophony of various greetings, gushing, overdone praise and loud adulation. Skyfire felt even more embarrassed than for the stumbling landing, quietly – and unsuccessfully - trying to answer and convince them to let him go of the suffocating cuddles. He could only imagine how the usually more aloof Blast Off took the same treatment.

But then it was, for a young Shuttling a significant step in growing up, he realized. Not yet adulthood, but the first space-flight was an important and usually well-celebrated occasion and after experiencing the thrill of it, Skyfire could well understand why. It was a huge difference from flying in the atmosphere, both in feeling and in managing it – more complex and engaging a whole slew of different sensors and processes.

So, after thinking it over, the white Shuttling stopped trying to calm down his excited and immensely proud Creators and together with the similarly embarrassed Blast Off’s family, they settled down the nearby restaurant where the ordered feast of cubes and treats awaited them. They even got a small cube of high grade for the toast and Skyfire, after a small sip of it, passed his over to Blast Off, who seemed to like it far better. He rather indulged in the energon goodies. 

All in all, it was one of the few family celebrations that he came to enjoy. Just like the flight in space, the glowingly happy white Shuttling decided.


	5. Betrayed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings for the dub-con that comes from the coding - Skyfire at this point doesn't know about it though and he sees it as non-con.

Skyfire tried to be careful, he really did. He had a lot of practice in it, being bigger than most grounders even as a Shuttling. But now, in his adult frame he was towering over every mech in Iacon and some buildings became from hard to get around in to impossible to get in. Even at the Academy there were some places he simply couldn’t enter and most were just barely big enough for him – and the Academy buildings were among the largests in the town. To compound his problems, he was still adjusting to his final, adult frame and he was sometimes a bit awkward with his wingspan and bulk. Lab equipment suddenly became a hard task to handle and after a few dozen broken beakers and crumpled up dials he turned to a specialist to enhance his digits so he could handle smaller objects safely. That helped a lot, but he still had to get used to it and in the meanwhile he continued to ruin many things he tried to handle. 

All in all, Skyfire wasn’t a happy shuttle, even though all his best dreams seemed to come true; he was studying sciences in Iacon Academy, his Sire finally accepted that they would bond with Blast Off whenever they felt like ready for it, and the darker shuttle was content studying as well as with their easy, no pressures friendship. So things looked promising and Skyfire’s natural optimism came back out – if only he could get around without breaking things and calling attention to himself… 

Taking a break from his studies were not what Skyfire did often. Or at all if he could help it. But he wouldn’t miss the chance to see the reserved, morose Blast Off as awkward in his new frame as himself. Surprising him therefore seemed a great idea – didn’t he say often that Skyfire should act more impulsive? Still, it was with a little nagging feeling that he felt while flying towards Tarn, hoping that the other would welcome him this time like he did in others. 

Traffic around Tarn was heavier than usual and since he filed no flight plan, Skyfire had to be extra careful of it. Querying a passersby, Skyfire realized that it was a holiday, a celebration and an unspecified event involving shuttles, that the mech wasn’t sure exactly. The white Shuttle hesitated for a few kliks, not wanting to butt in on an event he knew nothing about… but then decided to go anyway. He was not going to turn back from virtually his goal and besides… Blast Off’s invitation to visit was general, including any time he wished to come. Right?

So Skyfire flew on, weaving his way through the heavy traffic and watched the crowds as he moved. There was the usual Tarnian crowd, mostly helis along with the more curious and extreme flying mechanisms; but also there was a heavy element of Seekers too on this orn, the brightly coloured, fast jets darting in, out and around the clouds of slower fliers, creating chaos and colourful swearing in their wake. Skyfire watched them a little enviously, the ease and effortless way they handled their aerodynamic, compact and sleek frames, performing stunts easily that were nearly impossible to others. He was on the agile end of Shuttles and learned a lot of maneuvers that weren’t common among their kind – but still, he was a mere bumbling beginner compared to the Seekers. 

Banking sharply left from a fast approaching, gold and green Seeker on a near collision course, Skyfire shook himself out of his funk. He had to stay sharp in this crowd, not ogle the jets and their displays of… skill? There seemed to be more than just a display of ability and agility among the fliers, something Skyfire couldn’t quite grasp yet. There was a strange tension in the movements, a hard glint in the optics that weren’t quite normal, and something else that started to affect him too and not in a good way…

But at last he arrived to the part of the town where Blast Off’s family and clan lived without anything untoward happening. Tired from the long flight and maneuvering in the unusual crowd, Skyfire landed on a small square before reaching his goal, intending to catch his invent and calm his strangely ruffled nerves before seeing his Intended. But as he stood there, he became aware of shuttle engines growling overhead and looking up, he recognized Blast Off’s unusual colouring among a little group of other Shuttles. Just as he started to wave at them and prepared to take off to join them, Skyfire saw the brown Shuttle break away from the group and turning sharp, descend sharply on another Shuttle, a blue-black coloured one. 

Skyfire stayed where he was, a sudden premonition gripping him and making him watch the happenings silently. Blast Off was clearly trying to force the other Shuttle down, their movements clumsy and slow, but clearly imitating those of the Seekers when engaging in a dogfight in the air. The others formed a rough circle around the contestants, obviously none of them surprised at the violence the generally docile Shuttles suddenly displayed. In fact they were cheering on the two fighters, like it was just a friendly skirmish or training. 

But it wasn’t. Skyfire knew Blast Off and his mannerisms, and the brown shuttle was serious, focused and very much aggressive. Soon they both had some dents from glancing blows and collisions that were increasing in frequency and seriousness. Skyfire realized that if it was going to continue, one of them will crash and probably acquire serious injuries. Still, he didn’t call for help, since noone did. They all seemed to consider the events normal and the white shuttle was too shocked by both the fight and their nonchalance to act. He just stood there frozen, craning his neck to look up where the fight took place, optics wide and their blue bright with shock, wings trembling slightly.

Blast Off was clearly stronger and slightly faster of the two; Skyfire even recognized some of the moves he taught the fellow Shuttle lately. He was pursuing the other relentlessly, herding him, forcing down and in general being quite ruthless in his maneuvers. He seemed to ignore his own slight dents and focus on winning the fight Skyfire still had no idea what it was about. The air was filled with clangs and the sounds of straining, overworked engines, some yells and shouts, the smell of metal scorched, overlying the palpable tension that encompassed them all. Skyfire hissed slightly at each collision, no matter how small and contemplated calling someone to help. Only… he wasn’t sure why. They were, in theory and in practice, full adults now, even if young ones yet. And there was no serious injury… yet.

But just as he reached this point in his frantic thinking, Skyfire saw the two dark frames soar lower and lower, their engines overheating and whining with the effort to stay up in the air… and the blue-black Shuttle suddenly lost its struggle. The drop was not from high, and he managed to transform before crashing down on the other end of the square, shattering an unfortunate crystal tree under his bulk, the twinkling shards creating a truly queer halo around his dark frame. The shuttle groaned, but to Skyfire’s slight relief he moved without serious injuries, trying to stand.

Blast Off landed not quite a step from him, his pedes thudding on the ground and the other shuttle froze halfway in the process of getting up. Red optics flickered up to the brown shuttle and he hissed something angrily that Skyfire didn’t quite catch through the white noise of shock in his audials. Black wings tried to flare, but one of them was sprained and bent and his angry hiss turned into one of pain. Blast Off had no such difficulty and his own wings were held up high and he appeared to be leaning over the other shuttle, still kneeling in front of him. When the other made a move to stand, the brown shuttle pushed him back and his angry growl shook Skyfire to his core. He never heard such an aggressive, threatening sound from Blast Off before and it made him step back, even though it wasn’t aimed at him. He contemplated leaving and never coming back. 

But he stayed there, frozen in shock and wanting to see how it ended even as he dreaded it. The onlookers still appeared unconcerned as the milled around, excited and talking among themselves, like the spectacle wasn’t over, like the most interesting part was about to commence yet… and they were right. The blue-black Shuttle tried to stand again, but Blast Off’s snarl and the strong push sent him back to his knee joints. He seemed to give up then, wings lowering and helm dropping… and then Blast Off moved around him, circling until he was directly behind the kneeling Shuttle. 

What was he going to do? Skyfire had no idea, but a deep, uncomfortable dread started to grow in his tank. He retreated even more, nearly hiding among the structures at the edge of the square, but still able to view what happened in the center. Blast Off was shuffling closer to his… _prey?_... and Skyfire was far enough not to see the details as he leaned over the black shuttle. But he did recognize the movement when the thrusting started, he had once walked in on his creators doing the same… or similar thing. Interfacing, his shocked processor labeled the act helpfully, it was interfacing. 

But it still wasn’t quite like what he saw back then. The black shuttling clearly didn’t enjoy it much and Blast Off held onto his wings with a strong grip, snarling at him and thrusting into him… Skyfire felt nausea rise in his tank. He never thought Blast Off would be capable of such a depraved, atrocious act. And in public, with others watching and none calling the enforcers to the scene of … rape? What was it in this town with violence and rape unpunished, considered normal? Why were they so… aggressive and cruel to each other, how could they live together in such a way? Thoughts whirled in Skyfire’s processor, questions he had no answers for, only his growing revulsion and the sense of betrayal.

Blast Off never showed such behaviour towards him. Vortex did though… and Blast Off defended the heli always, like it was normal to hurt someone while playing. Tarnians… suddenly the warnings flashed into his meta about them, of being aggressive, cruel and to be avoided. Now he saw why. Skyfire only realized that he was still moving backwards, unconsciously putting distance between himself and the others when his back and wings bumped into the wall of a house lining the square. Suddenly the frozen, shocked bubble broke and his audials were full of the shouts and that dreadful clanging. 

Skyfire turned and stumbling, he started to run down a street he had no idea where it led. It didn’t matter. He wanted away from that… thing on the square, away from this town with its mad inhabitants away from his disappointment and the bitter, stinging betrayal of the one he called his Intended. He wasn’t even sure when he took off, flying with full throttle towards Iacon, caring little for the traffic this time, unheeding of the jets rolling out of his way this time, showering his white form with curses and angry yells. The scene appeared to be playing in his processor on an endless loop, nearly stalling his engines a few times. Even his engines on full power, roaring in the sky, that dreadful clanging echoed in his audials.

He arrived to Iacon in a matter of breems, breaking all shuttle records set to the distance. Landing was a near disaster and Skyfire only caught himself mere meters before he crashed into the outer wall of the Academy. That shook him out of his stupor a bit and he was able to stumble towards his room, on some level thankful for the empty corridors. He wouldn’t be able to explain to anyone calmly just what shook his calm, gentle personality up so much, couldn’t even utter a word probably. His trembling digits input the code for his door at the fifth try and Skyfire stumbled in, crashing onto the berth like he was overcharged.

The door slammed shut behind him and finally the tears broke free.


End file.
